


Prologue

by SenyoretaLaliot



Series: Solving the Sphynx' Riddle, or, Seven ways in which Alleras revealed his identity to the world [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Greyjoy's Rebellion, I'd love to have a beta truth be told, Not Beta Read, Sailing the world, The Free Cities (ASoIaF), The Summer Isles (ASoIaF), Unending Leo bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22547278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenyoretaLaliot/pseuds/SenyoretaLaliot
Summary: Since the stories in this series only work inside my headcanon, I needed to explain a couple of things first, but I didn't know how to make them fit without disrupting the narrative and at the same time making them clear enough. So here's is a prologue of sorts to set the frame: why am I writing these, and why do Sarella and Leo behave the way they do.
Series: Solving the Sphynx' Riddle, or, Seven ways in which Alleras revealed his identity to the world [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622233
Kudos: 3





	1. Author's Rant

So I just fell in love with the Citadel from the first time I read the prologue to AFFC, and my inner fanfiction writer immediately started composing a full saga about a girl in disguise and all her adventures and misadventures as a novice. When I first read about the Sarella/Alleras theory I almost exploded, and eight years later it's still one of my favourite pieces of fiction to daydream about. In my headcanon Sarella and Leo Tyrell are friends, later accomplices, later lovers, and their relationship is full of harmless witty banter and poorly concealed, diabetis-inducing tenderness.

It's all a lie.

I recently re-read AFFC, and I found that I couldn't elude the truth anymore: Lazy Leo is a posh, good-for-nothing, malicious, abusing son of a ~~bitch~~ lord, and no [romantic cliche](http://allthetropes.org/wiki/Draco_in_Leather_Pants) of mine can fix that. After going through the five phases of mourning I decided to write this out of spite, in revenge for all my dreams of solidarity and shameless smut broken to pieces. Here's seven rounds of Leo finding out who this "nut-brown mongrel" really is, and then being left in ridicule and/or pining over her. Enjoy >:) 


	2. The Memoirs of Leo Tyrell 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought that Leo had some kind of past trauma that explains, although it never justifies, his unwillingness to make something with his life, spending his days drinking and gambling instead, and the unending stream of shit that leaves his mouth.

Leo Tyrell was born in late 277 in Highgarden, the youngest son of Moryn and Olene Tyrell by a fair margin. Unexpected, although not unwelcome, he spent his early childhood at Highgarden, where his father and his brother served as knights of House Tyrell. His first memories are full of white patios with children playing and songs of chivalry and dashing knights. He was a very clever boy, curious, never shy; his mother couldn't have enough of him, and his father was grateful to the gods for this last son they had granted him, as he wouldn't stop repeating.

Soon enough, though, he lost his innocence to the little games of malice and intrigue that children play. Bully the weaker so that the stronger won't bully you, mock the game if you can't play it, make your adversaries trip whenever you can but don't let it look like you've done it on purpose. At the age of eight or nine he was already learning to read the insults behind polite words and to imitate them, a bit clumsily at first, but with a cruelty that could easily make up for that. While as a very young child he had found himself very comfortable with his female cousins, he now shunned their company and mocked boys that continued to enjoy feminine activities. This and a thousand other little survival tricks secured him a relatively comfortable position in the tiny, childish court that mirrored the adults', and he mostly enjoyed life at Highgarden with his small gang of friends.

The only bad times were his training at arms. His progresses were far from satisfactory, as the master at arms made very clear on every occasion. He had never had the strength nor the resistance to be a good swordsman, not with the heavy swords and shields used in Westeros, although he was very quick. Feeling vulnerable before his peers' mocking, and frustrated that it didn't come to him as easily as everything else had --studying with the maester, horse riding, even etiquette--, he avoided practicing as much as he could, which of course didn't help him get better. This, along with some rumours of his bullying other children, would eventually convince his father that he needed some drastic measures to put him on the right path.

Some three months after his tenth namesday, he was summoned to Ser Moryn's rooms, where he was solemnly announced that he would be going to Seagard to serve as a page to Ser Desmond Hersy. It would harden him, Father said, while keeping the most shameful details of the process from the court's eyes. Leo flinched at this last remark, but he found himself unable to protest, instead he just swallowed and nodded and went to bed. That night was the longest he had ever lived, lying wide awake in the darkness, regretting not having fought more, and as soon as the day broke he went straight to his mother, to implore that she interceded and let him stay. She just smiled at him sadly and told him to brighten up. Weeks before she had cried and begged and argued with her husband that not all of their sons needed to become knights: one of their grandchildren was studying at the Citadel, and everyone agreed that he had a brilliant future ahead. But Moryn's frustration at the child that had been meant to be his last opportunity prevailed, and there was nothing more she could do, except put on a merry expression for her son's sake and try to convince him --and herself-- that it was actually good news. 

His last two weeks in Highgarden passed in a blur of highly-efficient packing. His brother Luthor had offered himself at once to be part of the escort, which Leo found absurdly touching; for the rest, there were no tearful scenes nor heartfelt goodbyes. Before he had entirely accepted that he was leaving the only home he had ever known, the party was ready and there was nothing more to do except count the days until the set date. 

The last night he and the boys hid in a small square in the middle of the maze with a few stolen jugs of wine, huddled together in blankets and furs to resist the winter cold, determined to stay awake until dawn. None of them were particularly sad, mostly thanks to Olene's brave optimism, but there was a bittersweet air to their idle chat, a sort of nostalgic spirit lurking in the darkness around them, creeping closer whenever they fell silent. Their inicial excitedness dulled with the aid of the wine, the conversation grew drowsy, the japes repetitive, and slowly they succumbed to sleep. It was an unrestful slumber, broken every now and then by the cold; when the sky brightened with the greyish light that preceeds sunrise it was almost a relieve. They quickly shook awake those who were still sleeping, collected the covers and empty jugs with stiff movements, and headed to the castle in silence.

Two hours later Leo found himself waiting by his horse, already changed into his riding clothes and ready to go. Around him everything was intense activity and people giving orders as they finished the last preparatives on the short luggage train. When they gave the signal to mount he quickly went to his brother's side, eager to lead the small group. And though his heart leaped painfully when the gate was finally open and they set in motion, he managed to look back only once, when the ocean road they followed separated from the Mander. The rest of the day he looked only forward, to the path ahead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I've pulled the year of Leo's birth straight out of my tall hat: there is no calculation in AWOIAF (my ultimate source of truth and wisdom) and the only reference we have in canon is when Sam arrives at the Citadel and describes Leo as being of about his age. This would place Leo's birth around 283 AC, making him six years old when Balon Greyjoy rose in rebellion, but I've decided to completely ignore this fact because I'm too fond of the great ball of angst and tears I've built for him :) His mother name isn't known either, so I just named her after her granddaughter Olene (which I assumed could have been name after her). The rest of his family tree follows the canon, and so does the fact that he must be far younger than his brother Luthor, since when Leo is a novice at the Citadel one of his nephews has children of his own (!) and another one is already a maester.  
>   
> I know that my depiction of his childhood is quite traumatic, but I've always imagined the court of Highgarden as a nest of very polite and graceful adders, with very bigoted people pretending to be very accepting and very cruel words pretending to be very sweet. Also, I think that Leo would have subscribed Snape's scornful words in "The Prince's Tale", when he says about Gryffindors "well, if you'd rather be brawny than brainy..." and snickers. I can perfetly imagine him telling that to one of the Redwyne twins when they mock him for his lack of skill at arms.  
>   
> Finally, Ser Desmond is an original character of mine. I named him Desmond for a Lord Mallister that had a "great and tragic friendship" with a Lord Greyjoy, whom I'd love to know more about. And I wanted to make him related to Ser Arlan of Pennytree as a wink to the Dunk and Egg novellas, but I don't think there's a House of Pennytree. I made him a Hersy instead, whose arms are similar to Ser Arlan's. House Hersy has its seat in the Vale, but I suppose that, as a junior member of a cadet branch, Ser Desmond would put his sword at the service of whatever House accepted him and be grateful for it.  
>   
> On a side note, has anybody else read the Dunk and Egg novellas? (I sound like a JW now, do you have a moment to hear the Word of our Lord and Saviour Ser Duncan the Tall?) They're true masterpieces, but they're not very well known, and I'm dying to find a fellow fan to talk and hype and cry over them ;-;


End file.
